


Dangerous Curves

by unicornsandbutane



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M, Feeding Kink, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3303683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornsandbutane/pseuds/unicornsandbutane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This exchange occurred on tumblr:</p><p>Anon: i think sniper likes chubby girls ok can u just imagine this big cute chubby girl giving this skinny lanky ass austrailian a big hug and him just bein all ‘oh moi god’ and being a huge dweeb in her arms (✿ฺ´∀`✿ฺ)</p><p>20-week-old-fetus: ohmYGOD!!! thats really cute ahhh  i love that so much</p><p>---<br/>So I wrote a response to that.</p><p>Sniper solo, masturbation, some fetishisation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangerous Curves

She was drunk, and nothing happened, but he still sometimes touched himself to the thought of her.   
It was in a tavern by the Harvest base, and she was a waitress who’d just gotten off the clock. He didn’t remember her name but thought it might have been Mary or Maddie, or Mandy or something like that. Demo’d invited the girl to their table for a drink and she’d initially refused, and the Scout had said something akin to ‘fine, no fat chicks’ and the Sniper cuffed the mouthy brat upside the head and offered to buy the girl a drink. “T-to apologize,” he’d stuttered, and his cheeks still flushed at what an utter boob he must have looked. His face heated then, too, and he’d hoped she couldn’t tell in the dim light. 

When she untied her apron and pulled her hair out of its short ponytail, she looked like a cherub, all soft and pink. He asked her what she fancied and she surprised him by telling her coworker to get her a whiskey neat. He wanted to do a shot out of her belly button. 

He wanted to push his nose between her large breasts, wanted to nibble at her ribs and grip the swell of her hips. When she leaned forward on her stool to take her drink, he had the worst urge to pinch her bum. 

Most young girls where he came from, they weren’t built like this. They were either hardy and thin, like him, brown and dry like everything else that lives in the desert, or they were mustachioed city girls with biceps like tree trunks. Not this, this kind of soft, bouncy angel like the girl perched next to him, steadily downing a single-malt whiskey and making Demo cheer and Engie raise eyebrows under his Sunday ten-gallon. The Heavy said she reminded him of his youngest sister, and offered to buy her a vodka. The Sniper thought she might only have accepted so her coworker could get the tip, but anyway, this led to Demo being upset that someone would spoil that lovely Islay for her, and buying her another whiskey, and so it continued for awhile, and soon she was good and sloshed and blushing brightly from all the alcohol in her system and she flung her arms around him and slurred that they’d been so nice to her, and he froze because he could feel her breasts pressed up against his side and her big arms holding him close and he didn’t want to make any more of a fool out of himself than he already had, so he ordered another round and she sat back, grinning, and he tried to hide his blush behind his hat. She accepted the tumbler gratefully and the Sniper watched her swallow, and wanted… So many things.

Looking back he was a little surprised that his first desire was not for a blowjob, but to buy her a cake. A big chocolate confection covered in strawberries, and cream, and he wanted to watch her eat the whole thing. Wanted to watch her part her bow-shaped lips and feed big sugary mouthfuls to herself, wanted her to hum at the flavour and comment on it, wanted to see her tongue peek out at errant frosting. He might take a dollop of buttercream on his fingertip, and ask her to lick it off. Maybe he wouldn’t even give her a fork, just let her pick up a big thick slice with her little pudgy pink hands and bite off big chunks, moist and sweet, filling her cheeks, frosting on her nose and crumbs falling into her cleavage, and if he was touching himself, this was usually the point in the fantasy where he’d come all over himself, muffling his cries in a pillow, jolting and shivering and sweating. 

She’d never know.

More than once, though, in those slow moments after his orgasm, he’d thought about looking up the name of that tavern, and having a cake delivered for her, anonymously. If he could only remember her name, so they could pipe it on in frosting. He wanted to be there, too, and maybe gather up a bit of the M for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Short little thing, thanks for reading! You know the drill: find me on tumblr for more junk!


End file.
